The Lost Tomb of Pharaoh Sedqaduck
by Stretch Snodgrass
Summary: Scrooge McDuck, Launchpad, and Huey, Dewey and Louie race to find the lost treasure of the Pharaoh Sedqaduck. But why has Scrooge insisted upon bringing along his nephew, the always lucky Gladstone Gander? Reviews are greatly appreciated.
1. The Lost Tomb

**Sedqaduck the Unlucky**

Scrooge McDuck sat at a desk in his mansion's library, several books piled beside him. He was looking intently through a magnifying glass at a battered, yellowed map.

"I do trust everything is going alright, sir," said Duckworth, his aging butler, bringing in a tray of tea things for the old tycoon.

"Aye," said Scrooge, "It's a very simple puzzle - it's a translation done in Napoleon's time. I know where the treasure is - but finding it is not what worries me . . . . Scrooge trailed off, deep in thought. "That will be all Duckworth," he added.

"Very good sir" said the butler, taking his leave.

"Before you go," ordered Scrooge, resolve in his eyes. "Send in the boys."

_A few minutes later_

"Huey, Dewey, Louie," said Scrooge, to the three ducklings - dressed in red, blue, and green, respectively. "How would you like to come with me treasure hunting?"

"Yeah" said Huey.

"We'd be . . ." added Dewey.

"happy too," finished Louie.

"Good," said Scrooge. "What do you know about Sedqaduck the Unlucky?"

Dewey pulled out a small red book.

_"The Junior Woodchuck Guidebook_ says "_Sedqaduck, the Unlucky,__ was the 13th pharaoh of the 13th dynasty, named the Unlucky because no matter what he tried to do he couldn't prevent the collapse of the Middle Kingdom,"_ Dewey read. _"When he died he had the Middle Kingdom's greatest treasures buried with him in a mysterious tomb hidden inside a mountain. Since then the secret location has only been uncovered a few times in history - most recently by a Lieutenant in Napoleon's Army who had translated medieval Arab documents detailing a disastrous expedition to the lost tomb."_

"Great," said Huey. "Mummies, a lost pyramid, treasure . . . ."

"Not to mention we have a chance to get our Archeology merit badges," put in Louie.

"Aye," said Scrooge, still glaring at the writing on the yellowed map. "But hold your kilts, laddies. Remember our adventure in Garbabble?"

"What about it?" asked Huey.

"You think we'll run into another live - er, dead mummy," asked Louie.

"We can always bring plenty of matches," suggested Dewey.

"That isn't what has me knickers in a knot," said Scrooge sternly. "I hate calling in outside help on a project. But I think given what I've learned over the years that we'd be best bringing along your uncle to lend a hand.

"Great," said his nephews in unison. "A visit from Uncle Donald.

"_Not_ Donald," said Scrooge bitingly. "Gladstone - I"m going to try and get your Uncle Gladstone to come with us."

"Gladstone?" said the nephews, surprised.


	2. Gladstone Gander

**Gladstone Gander**

"We haven't seen Uncle Gladstone in a while," observed Louie.

_The nephews were in their Uncle Scrooge's vintage limousine, accompanying him to Gladstone's house. Duckworth had assumed his dignified post in front, driving the mammoth auto quickly through the early afternoon traffic._

"I know, I know," said Scrooge, slightly irritated. "Gladstone's been away on a one year world cruise. And a trip to Rio de Janeiro."

"We never really saw _that _much of Uncle Gladstone anyways," Dewey observed. "Uncle Donald never liked him that much."

"_I_ don't like the boy that much," Scrooge said, more to himself than he nephews. "He's honest lad . . . but he's a lazy no account lay-about."

However, was irritating Scrooge the most was Gladstone's insufferable good fortune . . . and how he abused it. Scrooge McDuck had built his empire by being smarter than the smarties and tougher than the toughies (and had made it square) - and it rankled that Gladstone ambled slothfully through life trusting to luck.

_Gladstone's house was a bungalow located in a pleasant neighbourhood on the far end of town. Scrooge sent Duckworth home with the limousine, with instructions to come back when called for_.

Scrooge rang the bell. As _luck would have it_, no one was at home.

"Try the door," suggested Louie. "Maybe Uncle Gladstone left it unlocked."

"Yeah," said Huey. "He wouldn't mind if we went in."

"Even he wouldn't . . ." started Scrooge. But, of course, the door was unlocked.

"Just like Gladstone not to worry about burglars," observed Scrooge grumpily.

The four ducks went inside to the comfortable living room, and proceeded to wait for several hours.

"Why do you want Uncle Gladstone to come anyways," asked Dewey, sometime during the long, dull, vigil.

"That," replied Scrooge sternly, "will be a surprise."

"But. . . ." started Louie.

"That's me final word," Scrooge added.

_Behind a couch, the nephews huddled together._

"Well his final word is his final word," said Huey to the other nephews. "But why does Scrooge want Uncle Gladstone? He never asks him along on a treasure hunt."

"Maybe Uncle Scrooge wants him so we'll have good luck" suggested Louie.

"That's not really how his luck works," argued Dewey. "If I remember right, usually it only helps _him_. Besides, it's not like Uncle Scrooge to beg Gladstone to come along as a good luck charm. In fact, it's against everything he stands for."

_The nephews deliberations were interrupted by the door. Gladstone had come home - smartly dressed in orange coat, panama hat, and sporting a four leaf clover in his lapel_. _He was carrying a few gift wrapped boxes._

"Uncle Scrooge," he said, as lightheartedly as usual. "Huey, Dewey and Louie, it's lucky you showed up."

"Lucky?" asked Scrooge, perplexed.

"Yes, lucky, _of course_," said Gladstone. "I was wondering why I won this remote controlled police car today."

He handed the largest box to Dewey.

"_Luck only works for him_," whispered Huey sardonically to his blue-clad brother.

"So I was wrong, so sue me," said Dewey, as he unwrapped the box.

Scrooge McDuck cleared his throat. Gladstone was already getting on his nerves. Would the lad ever wake up and smell the heather?

"Since your Uncle Gladstone gave it to you, you may keep the police car" McDuck said. "I don't know what _he'd do with it _at his age."

"Ah, lighten up Unc," said Gladstone. "What brings you here anyways?"

"A little business proposition, Gladstone" said Scrooge.

"_Business_," gagged Gladstone, disgusted. "Well, why don't we talk about it over dinner?"

"I don't know . . . ." started Scrooge, looking at his pocket watch.

"_I'll pay_," put in Gladstone slyly.

"We'll take it."

"Great," said Gladstone. "This _is _lucky_. _Now I can tell my date we _definitely_ won't have one tonight. Gladstone added cheerfully, "After all, blood's thicker than water"

"How's that lucky?" asked Scrooge, outraged over this "un-square" behaviour. "Besides, I've seen the fair filly you've been dating. Why would you want to stand _her _up?"

"Relax Uncle Scrooge," Gladstone said. "We never actually had anything definate set up."

"_Besides_," Gladstone added, in a confidential tone (as the nephews played with the police car). "_She's been thinking of matrimony_."

There was a sudden popping noise.

"Hey, look at this," said Huey. "A cab just got a flat tire outside the door."

"It's a Blue Cab," observed Gladstone. "We can take it downtown. _I _won five years of free rides on the blue cab line."

Scrooge groaned.


	3. Just Desserts

Chapter 3: Just Desserts?

"Why are we going Quack Maison?" asked Scrooge, as Gladstone stopped the cab outside the expensive restaurant at the corner of Drake and Main.

"It's a good place - anyways I _won _free dinner for myself and a friend last year," Gladstone explained, as he left the cab.

"I did," corrected Scrooge. "You were the 999,999 customer - I was the millionth."

Splash! Scrooge had stepped into a puddle. "Brigadoon."

"And I haven't been back since," said Gladstone. "We'll see what _luck_ puts my way."

Gladstone, Scrooge, Huey, Dewey and Louie went into the smart eatery. They were greeted by a French waiter.

"Ah, welcome. Party of five" he asked.

"Yes," said Gladstone.

"Oui, monsieur," said the waiter. "Follow me."

"Your luck must be failing you, Gladstone," observed Scrooge, unfolding his napkin. "No free meal."

"Then how do you explain how I found this $100 dollar bill under my napkin," Gladstone replied.

"Never mind" snapped Scrooge.

He was, at least, glad his nephew was paying. The prices were positively shocking. So much so that even Huey, Dewey and Louie were stunned looking at the menu.

"Doesn't this menu have anything in English," Louie complained.

Scrooge waited until dinner was served for his sales pitch to begin.

"All this is luxury fine, Gladstone," began Scrooge. "But for real fun you ought to go exploring, go treasure hunting, like me."

"I dunno, Uncle Scrooge," said Gladstone. "Why do I need to go chasing after treasure when I have luck? All that dust, grime, hard work, why it's . . . like having a _job_."

"Treasure hunting isn't work," Huey objected.

"Yeah, it's fun," said Dewey. "Exploring strange new places, going on a jungle adventure, meeting weird creatures."

"Like Flintheart Glomgold," quipped Louie.

"Fun?" said Gladstone, skeptically. "I heard how you guys were almost roasted in that golden valley."

"I thought you trusted to luck to avoid such things," Scrooge put in.

"Don't tell us your chicken," said Dewey.

"_Me, _chicken," scoffed Gladstone. "I"ll go on your treasure hunt. Then you'll see good luck in action. Luckiest Goose in the World."

"Great," said Scrooge, sharing a wink with his nephews.

"Messieurs."

The French waiter had again made his appearance.

"Pardon-moi messieurs, but would you care for something from the desert trolley?"

"Sure," said Gladstone. "I'll have your speciality, Le Chaud Cocoa au Flammee avec les Pommes dans . . . ."

Gladstone was suddenly interrupted by a brass band. Balloons and confetti fell from the ceiling. Waiters and waitresses cheered.

"Ah, congratulations monsieur," said the waiter, shaking Gladstone's hand warmly. "You are the one millionth customer to order our world famous dessert. For this honour, you are given a year of free meals. And you may invite as many of your friends as you like . . . well, no more than five at a time of course . . . to share in your good fortune."

"Awk," said Scrooge.

"See, Uncle Scrooge," said Gladstone triumphantly. "Talk about your just desserts."

_Later the hubbub had died down, their meals were cleared, and the desserts - a strange chocolate and apple sticky mess, had been placed before them._

"And _why_, said Scrooge to the waiter, "_Why_ did my being the millionth customer only get me dinner for myself and _1 _friend well Gladstone's dessert allows him five."

"Because you see monsieur," explained the waiter, "our restaurant is famous all over the Americas. That is two continents. But our dessert, it is famous all over the world. North, South America, Europe, Africa, Asia and Australia. Six continents, six friends."

"A lot of rubbish," said Scrooge, dismissively.

"What about Antarctica?" Huey pointed out.

"No one lives there," said the waiter dismissively.

"That's what he thinks," whispered Louie to the other nephews, who laughed heartily.

"It is, how you say, irrelevant," said the waiter, taking no notice of them. "It is too cold there for our famous _chaud _dessert. Voila!"

With that he set the chocolate and apple contrivances on fire.


	4. Eastern Express

**Eastern Express**

**(Sorry for the delay)**

_A couple of days had passed. Scrooge was impatiently looking at his watch. Meanwhile his nephews and Launchpad loaded the airplane - a large machine featuring four engines. Huey picked up a box, threw it to Dewey beside him. Dewey threw it up to Louie who was halfway up the few steps to the low-lying cargo door. Louie threw the box to Launchpad. Launchpad caught the boxes and put them away._

"Finally," gasped Huey. "No. 96."

_The last box was thrown from nephew to nephew somewhat faster than the others. Unfortunately, it was thrown in the plane before Launchpad was finished with the prior one._

"Yow," said Launchpad, as the box conked him on the head.

"Uh, sorry," said Louie.

"Lucky I wear a crash helmet," said Launchpad, as he got out of the plane.

"Speaking of _luck_," Scrooge complained, while consulting his gold pocket watch. "Where is that Gladstone? Treasure waits for no man."

"Chill out, Mr. McD," said Launchpad. "It's waited for thousands of years, a few days more won't hurt it."

"_Aye_," said Scrooge. "But it's only waited thousands of years because _I _wasn't there to find it."

_They were interrupted by several shouts._

"Hey, Uncle Scrooge," said Gladstone.

"Bless me bagpipes," Scrooge exclaimed.

Gladstone Gander was in a hot air balloon, accompanied by a distinguished man in top hat, tux and tails - the balloon operator.

"Quackarooni," said Dewey. "What's he's doing up there?"

"Maybe he's flying in from Oz," Launchpad joked.

The balloon landed gently. Almost before it had touched the ground Gladstone hopped out.

"Hope I kept nobody waiting," he explained. "You see, I just won a free ticket to the circus - and I couldn't let it go to waste."

"Well you have," said Scrooge rudely. "Come on."

He hooked Gladstone with his cane and pulled him up. Launchpad and the nephews followed.

_In no time, Launchpad had gotten them smoothly into the air. Everybody settled in for a long flight. Travelling eastward, it would be well into tomorrow by the time they reached the small desert town that was their destination._

_It was well into the night, and nothing but clouds and water was to be seen around them._

"Huh" snored Scrooge.

"Shhhh" continued Huey.

"Quack, quack," slept Dewey and Louie respectively.

Gladstone yawned.

"Some adventure," he complained to Launchpad. "Uncle Scrooge and the boys are asleep, and I'm left with nothing to do."

"You can sleep," suggested Launchpad. "When I was a kid I lived on a farm - I always went to bed early."

"I don't," said Gladstone. "I'm probably lucky enough to go to sleep if I want to, but I just hate going to bed early."

"Well," said Launchpad staring into the inky blackness, "_Lucky_ for you, you've got me to talk to."

Having had many adventures, and by virtue of being in charge of a troop of Junior Woodchucks, Launchpad McQuack was a good storyteller. Moreover, as everyone knows, crashes improve in the telling.

"You know what," said Gladstone, after hearing of the hero's harrowing hiatus with the Harpies. "I think I know why you crash so much. LUCK."

"Luck?" questioned Launchpad.

"It's your luck to always crash," said Gladstone, happy to talk about _his favourite topic_. "I mean look at it this way - how many times does a fuel line unexpectedly clog, an engine part break, the Beagle Boys put marshmallow goo in your engines, or some monster pull down your plane."

"Lots," Launchpad conceded. "But . . . ."

Gladstone never heard what Launchpad was going to say. At that moment a large jet zoomed out of the inky blackness. A rapid firing sound was heard.

BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG

"Ugh," said Scrooge, waking up at the sound of danger. "Brigadoon!"

"We're being . . . ." said Huey.

"Shot . . . ." said Louie.

"At" finished Dewey.

"Duck," said Launchpad.

"Well, half duck. Actually, my late father was a goose," explained Gladstone casually.

"Hit the floor," said Launchpad. He pushed Gladstone to the ground.

The dark jet fired once again, bullets smashed through the windshield.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!

BANG BANG BANG, CR-ACK! CR-ACK!

The jet had aimed at the wings of the aeroplanes. The four engines, and even the wings themselves, broke off the plane plummeting to the ground below.

_Inside the "mystery jet," a bearded duck in kilt and pancake hat eagerly watched the scene play out. The two dogs at the controls wore black masks. One was tall with a large jaw. One was very short. Both wore red sweaters sporting a numbered placard. Bank Job and Big Time Beagle respectively._

"That ought to finish off Scroogie," gloated Glomgold.

_He held up a newspaper. It showed Scrooge holding up the map to the lost treasure of __Sedqaduck the Unlucky. Glomgold held up a large magnifying glass. The map gave a detailed view of the no-longer secret map._

"Ha-ha," laughed Glomgold. "When will Scrooge learn not to leave his map in plain sight."

"Looks like never," said Bank Job, looking at the smoking aeroplane before them.

"They's gonna have a hard time getting out of this one," observed Big Time

"Just fly on," yelled Glomgold.

The "mystery jet" flew away into the night.

_Meanwhile:_

Scrooge, the nephews, and Launchpad yelled, as the wingless, engine-ness plane began to plummet toward the earth.

Only Gladstone remained unperturbed.


	5. Glomgold Quits

**Glomgold Quits**

"Do something" yelled Scrooge.

"I am" responded Launchpad. "I'm crashing."

"Besides that," Scrooge retorted.

"Hey, even a super genius would have a hard time flying a wingless plane," Launchpad replied.

The plane plummeted.

But that wasn't the worst of their problems.

"What's that funny brown cloud?" asked Louie.

"Sandstorm," said Scrooge, alarmed.

"It'll clog our propellers," warned Launchpad.

The cloud of swirling sand engulfed the plane.

Fortunately, the high winds of the sandstorm were enough to slow the plane on its descent. Launchpad was able to expertly steer the plane to the ground, albeit in a roundabout way.

The plane went around, and around, and around, until with a SMUSH it crashed gently into a sand-dune. The whirling sandstorm had vanished, leaving the ducks stranded somewhere in the desert beneath a suddenly cloudless sky. There was no _further _damage done, aside from the ton or two of sand that had flown into the ruined plane.

"Great flying, Launchpad," Huey observed.

"That _was _a landing to remember," said Launchpad, brushing off some sand_._

"It was some ride," Gladstone allowed, cautiously. He then added, peevishly, "_Luckily _for us, that sandstorm came along when it did."

"But where are we?" asked Dewey.

"This is serious," observed Scrooge, also brushing himself off. "We may be stranded in the middle of the desert, hundreds of miles from the nearest town."

"I don't think so," said Gladstone, looking out a window. "_Luckily_, it seems as if we're near some oasis town."

"Bless me bagpipes," said Scrooge. "He's right."

It was true, the gray light of dawn was breaking over the horizon. Dimly, the party could see a desert town of drearly brick homes surrounded by the date and palm trees ubiquitous to a desert oasis.

"Hey, look at that sand dune," said Louie. "Shaped like a camel. Does this mean we're in . . ."

"Sham-el-Camel?" Dewey finished.

"Aye," said Scrooge. "I cannot believe it. Right where we wanted to land."

_Later, Scrooge, Launchpad, Gladstone, and the nephews had been outfitted by a local merchants, and were saddled and well on their trek_.

"Awk," said Scrooge, as they left the oasis town. "I should have known these camels would practically cost their weight in gold."

"That's not surprising," said Dewey. "The _Junior Woodchuck Guidebook _states that Sham-el-Camel is one of the most isolated towns in the Sahara desert. It's past importance was as a stop on ancient caravan routes."

Huey, Dewey and Louie shared one camel between them. Dewey rode on the hump, Huey and Louie in front and behind him respectively.

"Aye," said Scrooge. "A very dangerous caravan route, through some of the driest and remotest dunes in the world. The perfect place for Sedquaduck to hide the treasures of the thir . . . ." Scrooge suddenly paused. "The perfect place for Sedquaduck to hide the treasures of his dynasty."

"These camels will never replace flying," said Launchpad. "These one hump camels are the worst."

Launchpad had the misfortune of riding an especially ungainly camel.

"These one hump camels were half price," Scrooge pointed out.

"I don't know," said Gladstone. "I think it's sort of interesting."

Gladstone's "ship of the desert" rode as smoothly and gracefully as Scrooge's yacht back home.

"It is sort of hot," Gladstone complained as they went on. "You know what I could use," he added wistfully, "a dip in the pool."

"Well," said Huey, "You're not likely to get one out here."

"Then what's that!" said Gladstone triumphantly, pointing ahead.

On the horizon was a small oasis, containing a small, sparkling lake.

"Is that the valley of Pharaoh Sedquaduck?" asked Launchpad.

"No," said Scrooge. "We're still too far away. It must be a mirage."

"I've always wanted to see one of those," Launchpad observed. "The last time I was in the desert I missed my chance."

"Mirages can be dangerous," Louie pointed out. "People have become lost, all from chasing after things that aren't even there."

"Well," said Scrooge, "it isn't on the map, but it is on our way."

The mirage stayed constant, the closer they went.

"Looks real to me," said Gladstone.

"It must be one of those especially real looking mirages," concluded Launchpad. "I'm going to try and ride through that fake lake."

"I don't think . . ." said Scrooge.

Launchpad rode into the small grove of palm trees, and with a loud SPLASH crashed into the lake.

"Ah well," Launchpad observed. "No harm done. Any crash your camel can walk away from, is a good one."

Launchpad's camel bellowed his agreement.

"This is a good spot as any to make camp," Scrooge observed.

The ducks, except Gladstone, set up camp for the night. Another couple of days, thought Scrooge, should bring them to the lost treasure of the ancient Pharaoh.

_However, they were not the only ones concealed in the mirage. Glomgold had recklessly decided to land his plane in the middle of the desert, to get an edge on Scrooge. __Glomgold and the Beagles were hidden behind some palms, watching Scrooge and his nephews pitch a tent, while Launchpad made a fire. Gladstone looked about sightseeing._

"You know," Gladstone remarked, "I think I'd like some fresh cocoanut milk."

_Cocoanut milk was not on Glomgold's mind. _

"When will that cheapskate ever learn," Glomgold gloated, "not to travel across the desert by camel. Take a plane, and fly in direct."

"I's surprised Scroogie made it this far," observed Big Time.

"Yeah," said Bank Job. "It looked as if they was goners."

"This bomb ought to settle 'em," said Big Time, lighting an old style round bomb.

"I"s think we ought to use dynamite," said Bank Job, lighting a few sticks of TNT.

"Bomb"

"Dynamite"

"Bomb"

The Beagles suddenly realized what they were holding, and threw both explosives at once.

_In the meantime, Gladstone had found out, to his disgust, that to get the cocoanuts from the tree he was looking at would require a good deal of climbing. He decided to lean back, and wait to see what luck would bring him._

_Fortunately for Gladstone, his leaning on the tree caused it to slant over. The dynamite and the bomb thrown by the Beagles hit the tree top, causing it to rain cocoanuts around, but not on, Gladstone._

"Bingo" said Gladstone, as he went to pick up a particularly large cocoanut.

_The tree rebounded, throwing the bomb and the dynamite far out into the desert. With an explosion, it destroyed Glomgold's plane._

"Brigadoon," exclaimed Scrooge. "Was that an explosion?"

"It _sounded _like an explosion," observed Launchpad. "But what could explode out here?"

"Must have been thunder," said Louie confidently.

"Take it easy, Uncle Scrooge," said Huey. "There isn't anyone or anything for miles around."

"The _Junior Woodchuck Guidebook _says thunder in the desert means an intense and dangerous storm," Dewey put in.

"Right lads," said Scrooge, after a moment's thought. "It must be a fast coming storm. We better hurry and make camp."

"_It must have been thunder_," thought Scrooge. "_But it sounded like blasting. I made me fortune in the Klondike, and I'd be plucked if I didn't think it was more like the sound of dynamite or blasting powder._"

While the ducks hurried to make camp before the impending non-existent storm, Gladstone calmly drank his cocoanut milk.

_Out of earshot a storm did break. That of Glomgold's wrath on the two headstrong beagles. After some minutes of attempting to strike at the two with his heavy wooden cane, he finally calmed down enough to speak coherently._

"Now I know why you two never work together," he growled. "You dim witted goons."

Glomgold reached into his coat and pulled out a radio. "Now I'll have to order a new jet."

The radio didn't work.

"Why don't we just get help from Scrooge," asked Bank Job, distastefully. "We'll die in this desert without weapons or supplies."

Like everyone else, Bank Job had remembered how Scrooge had rescued himself, Bugle and Baby Face Beagle from pirates after an attempt at robbing his money bin had left them stranded in the sixteenth century.

"From Scrooge?" bellowed Glomgold. "Nothing doing."

He threw down his pancake hat, and pounced on it in his fury.

"We'll follow him and take their treasure," said Glomgold, regaining control of his temper.

"Uh, hate to burst your bubble, Glommie," pointed out Big Time. "But they've got camels, we 'aint."

"Without guns, we can't beat all of them up neither," observed Bank Job.

Glomgold gritted his teeth. He thought.

_He could throw himself on Scrooge's mercy. The old softie would probably, reluctantly, take them in. Then they could find a way to steal the treasure later on. But accept charity, from Scrooge? _

"We give up the hunt . . . for now," said Glomgold, in a low growl. Amazingly, his pride had temporarily overcome his greed. "It's only a two day hike back to Sham-el-Camel. We'll get water and supplies enough here to make it back. Then I can order a new jet"

"But Glommie," objected Big Time.

Glomgold couldn't be persuaded.

_The next day the Beagles and Flintheart Glomgold made their tortuous way back to Sham-el Camel, following the trail of Scrooge's camels. However, cocoanuts make lousy supplies for a trek through the hot desert sands. The Beagles and Glomgold were half dead from exhaustion and dehydration by the time they reached the remote oasis town._

_Glomgold was forced to remain in an expensive hospital for several days. By the time he recovered, he knew he had no chance of securing the treasure of Pharaoh Sedquaduck._


	6. The Last Oasis

The Last Oasis

Scrooge had underestimated the amount of time it would take to reach the valley of Pharoah Sedquaduck the Unlucky 13th Pharaoh of the 13th dynasty.

It had taken an additional two days, and two more stops at deserted, unmapped oasises.

"No one must have been here for a hundred years," said Dewey, when they had reached the second of the three mysterious desert springs.

"Aye," said Scrooge. "We must be on the ancient caravan route to the lost valley of Pharoah Sequaduck. But, curse me kilts! Why aren't they on the map?"

"Maybe the map maker didn't consider it important," suggested Louie.

"No, that canna be," Scrooge said solemnly. "In the desert, water is crucial. Even if they had enough water packed near Sham el Camel, a map maker would not leave out such an important detail."

"Maybe that Pharaoh didn't want you to find them," suggested Launchpad.

"Aye," said Scrooge,. "That's it!"

"I see," said Dewey. "It's to discourage people from searching for the treasure. If they knew there's a row of desert gas stations leading straight to the valley, a lot more people would go out to find it. If the treasure is in the middle of the driest, most desolate and mysterious section of the desert, it scares away all but the most determined of treasure seekers."

"If that's the case," observed Gladstone, catching some dates which fell into his hands, courtesy of a phantom gust of wind, "its _lucky _we found it. My _luck, _of course."

Scrooge muttered something under his breath.

"Not as big as the first oasis," said Launchpad, looking around. Several fine trees and shrubs grew along the boundary of the small, clear pond of sparkling water. However, all around them the ducks could see the sifting dunes of the desert.

_Another day, Another Oasis_

"This third oasis is downright spooky," observed Huey.

"It isn't much," Scrooge agreed.

"I was beginning to think that yesterday's was the last one," said Dewey.

The third oasis consisted of a few straggling palm trees, standing guard over what looked like a stone tomb.

"Hey, this isn't valley of Pharoah Sedquaduck the un-l . . .' started Louie.

"No," said Scrooge quickly, glancing toward Gladstone. "That's an old desert well."

Old was right. At closer glance, the tomb was in fact a stone enclosure, from which a broad staircase went down, down, down into the desert. Gladstone, Scrooge, Launchpad and the nephews entered, and descended the long stairs. Near the bottom step was a pool of sulphurous, brackish water which watered this gasping desert outpost.

"Yuck," said Gladstone, holding his nose so as to avoid the rotten egg smell. "People actually drank that stuff."

"Is it poisonous?" asked Louie, peering into the shallow and stinking pool.

"No" said Scrooge. "But it's not of very good quality. There are many much larger oasis's with a water supply not much better than this."

"The _Junior Woodchuck Guidebook_ says that there are desert towns where the water is foul tasting or sour, but so long as its fresh and drinkable, life and society abounds," read Huey.

"Aye," said Scrooge. "Where's there's fresh water, there's life."

"Any water, really" said Launchpad. "But you think we should drink this stuff tonight, Mr. McD?"

"In me adventures," Scrooge considered, "There would have been occasions where I would have _almost _given a gold nugget for a quart of this water, awful as it may be. We don't know what we'll find in the final valley, there should be water but we'll never know until we get there. We ought to drink our fill, and conserve our reserves in case we need them."

The nephews made faces at the thought of washing down their meal with the brackish, sulphuric water from that most inhospitable spring. Even Launchpad looked disgusted at the thought. Gladstone, however, wasn't only nauseated but outraged.

"We drink that stuff, Uncle Scrooge. It's not fit for animals," he complained.

"It's _lucky_ we've come across so much water," dug Scrooge, slyly. "After all, in these uncharted parts of the Sahara . . .

"What do you mean uncharted, Mr. McD?" joked Launchpad, "you've got a map."

"Rarely explored," said Scrooge, unimpressed with Launchpad's reasonable jab, "there's little to be found."

"Little, smittle," complained Gladstone. "Who needs this stuff when you have_ luck_?

Gladstone picked up a pebble, and skipped it along the unappetizing water. The pebble hit the stone wall on the far edge of the well. Almost immediately a brick or two crumbled, and fell into the scant pool.

"There goes the water," said Dewey, laconically.

The collapsed brick had broke a hole into the rock floor underneath the nearly empty well. What water remained descended through a small whirlpool, somewhere into the desert sands.

"Lu - No need to worry, boys," said Scrooge. "We packed enough water when we left . . . .

Scrooge never finished his sentence.

At that moment a geyser of clear, bright spring water sprang from the hole in the bottom of the well, raining down on everybody (except Gladstone). At the same time, a gusher of the purest water flowed from the opposite side of the well.

"Quackaroonie," said the nephews, simultaneously.

"Brigadoon," exclaimed Scrooge."

"_Now that's better_," said Gladstone.

"Hadn't we better get out of here," Launchpad pointed out.

It was true, the water was already up to their ankles. The party ran out of the tomb-like well. It was only a few moments later that a torrent emerged from the mouth of the well. Within a half hour a small lake had been created in a depression between the dunes. Within the hour, quick blooming desert flowers had rushed up, and thrown open their flowers to great the setting sun and some bees that had mysteriously emerged from a hive near the half dead palms. The palms themselves showed signs of coming back to life.

The gusher had slowed down, but the pressure was high enough, and the flow was regular enough that the lake should remain for hundreds of years, at least Scrooge said as much. IN the coming months and years, new shrubs and trees would make this place a veritable paradise.

"Quackaroonie," said Dewey. "Gladstone made this piece of desert bloom just by throwing a pebble."

"_Luck_" said Gladstone, lying back in the newly grown grass.


	7. Into the Valley of Death

Into the Valley of Death

The last oasis had turned out to be by far the best. However, only one day at the most separated Scrooge and his party from the supposedly amazing treasures of the 13th pharaoh of the 13th Dynasty.

Here, the dunes were larger than ever. Every one a small mountain to cross, each more treacherous than the last.

"Oomph," said Launchpad. His camel had slipped on the unsteady sand, and Launchpad slid down the dune - creating a small avalanche of sand.

"No time for fooling around," said Scrooge.

Midday approached, the sun baking them as their shadows shortened. The party stopped for a quick lunch.

"Blech," complained Huey. "I've got sand all over my food."

"I don't," said Gladstone, making as best a lunch as he could under the circumstances.

They decamped, and their shadows grew longer as they crossed the endless dunes.

Scrooge was wondering if they'd ever get to the Valley of Pharaoh Sedquaduck, when, finally, what he dreaded would happen, happened.

Suddenly, and without warning, Gladstone fell off his camel, head first into the desert sands.

"Oomph," said Gladstone, his feet comically kicking into the air.

Launchpad and the nephews jumped off their camels, helping Gladstone out of the dune and onto his feet.

Gladstone wiped the grit from his eyes, and spat the sand from his mouth.

"What happened to your luck?" asked Dewey.

Only after asking the question, did Dewey become aware that Scrooge was frantically signing for him to hold his tongue.

"I don't know," said Gladstone, genuinely confused.

"Don't worry about it," said Launchpad. "Any crash you can . . . get right-side up from, is a good one."

This was only the beginning. For the next couple hours, Gladstone's camel became increasingly difficult to control. Gladstone was pitched off at least five times. Finally, Scrooge and Launchpad tethered Gladstone's camel to their own, insuring that Gladstone's camel couldn't buck or throw him to the ground.

_This wasn't as helpful as Scrooge had hoped. _

"I don't know what's going on, Uncle Scrooge," Gladstone admitted, after his unruly camel nearly caused the three of them to be thrown off into a particularly large dune.

"But I do, me lad," muttered Scrooge to himself.

This most recent delay had allowed the three nephews to go on ahead.

"Hey Uncle Scrooge," said Huey. "Look here."

Scrooge, Launchpad and Gladstone managed to get their camels to stumble over the next dune and gasp.

Just ahead of them, the desert sands ended in a sharp precipice. Beyond it, stretching almost to the horizon, left, right and centre, was a gigantic valley about one hundred feet below the desert sands. The valley was amazingly fertile, fed by a sort of circular river that ended in a large lake. Exotic birds flew to and through amongst the abundant trees and flowers. There were a group of elephants and hippos wading in the river.

Even from this distance, the party could see a large stone pyramid in the dead centre of the valley, on the shores of the lake. It was remarkably ornate, and unlike the more famous pyramids and well known attractions of Egypt, wasn't of the dull sandy yellow colour, but a rich grey, like European masonry.

Here and there, throughout the valley, and near the shore of the circular river, were large white obelisks, pointing toward the sky. Along them was a stone road, presumably untouched for centuries but free of any weeds or bushes. In fact the whole landscape appeared to be a well manicured garden.

"How can you have gardens without people," put in Dewey, looking at the paradise before them.

"Hey, do you think there are people living here?" asked Gladstone, bewildered. "Maybe guarding the treasure?"

"A secret civilization," suggested Louie. "Like Garbabble."

"I dunno see a single soul," said Scrooge. He had taken out a pair of binoculars and began scanning the valley from left to right, and top to bottom. "Besides, there is no sign of any homes or villages - unless they're hidden in the sides of the cliffs."

"What about the pyramid, and those obelisks?" Gladstone argued.

"The ancient Egyptians didn't use pyramids or obelisks as homes," Huey pointed out, having consulted the _Junior Woodchuck Guidebook_. "They were mainly used as markers or tombs."

"I don't think there's anyone around either," Lauchpad said, scanning the valley himself. "Not only is there no one in sight, and it's not only these funny gardens, but there's something else that's downright _spooky_."

"Aye, there's something very strange," said Scrooge, "And it's not just those gardens."

The ducks looked, and looked, and looked, but they couldn't figure it out.

"I've got it!" said Dewey. "You hear anything?"

"I don't hear a sound," Gladstone confessed.

"Nothing," admitted Launchpad.

"Not so much as the drop of a penny" said Scrooge.

"That's the problem," Dewey explained.

The valley was probably as silent as the interior of Pharaoh Sedquaduck's Tomb. The elephants didn't trumpet, the hippopotamuses didn't bellow, the water didn't gurgle, and the birds did not sing.

"Silent as the grave," Launchpad observed.

Everybody, even Gladstone, shivered.

"Come on," said Scrooge, "Explorers and treasure hunters have no time for ghost stories. Let's go down into the valley, and make camp before it gets dark."

A little travel brought them to a short obelisk marking the pathway down the steep slopes.

"Valley of Pharaoh Sedquaduck," said Dewey, translating the markings on the stone. "The Thir . . . ."

"That's good, Dewey," said Scrooge quickly - and firmly. "We dunno need a translation."

The pathway started off rough and grew broader and more even as they quickly approached the valley below. However, for some reason Gladstone had more and more trouble with his camel as they descended. Finally, Scrooge had Huey ride Gladstone's camel and Gladstone tag along on foot. The camel instantly behaved, but Gladstone seemed to become increasingly accident prone, tripping several times on loose stones.

"I think we should go back," said Gladstone suddenly.

"Why, when we're so close?" asked Louie.

"Because there's something about this place, I think it's making me lose my_ luck_," Gladstone blurted out. "I lost my luck once before - and I don't want to lose it again."

Scrooge sighed. Ever since Gladstone had first tripped, he was expecting something like this to happen.

"Gladstone, me boy," said Scrooge, very patiently considering what treasure was at stake. "I give you me word that you aren't losing your luck."

"I believe that _you _believe there's nothing wrong with my luck," said Gladstone, petulantly. "But what do you know about luck, Uncle Scrooge? You deny it even exists!"

_The nephews gasped, while Launchpad winced. Scrooge prided himself on his square dealings - and giving his word was the ultimate expression of his honesty. Scrooge would never give his word falsely or recklessly, even in reference to something intangible like luck_.

"Let's say I do believe in luck," Scrooge retorted acidly. "Brigadoon! I do no intend to go back until _we've done what we can do_.

"Done what we can do?" whispered Huey to Dewey.

"Besides" continued Scrooge, cruelly. "How long do you think you could survive in the desert if we leave you alone - if you have lost your luck?"

"Okay, okay," Gladstone yielded, realizing he had went too far. "I'm sorry Uncle Scrooge. I should know your word is as good as gold."

_That settled the question, as the party continued toward the valley floor below. Eventually the nephews, Gladstone, Launchpad and Scrooge found themselves at another, larger obelisk welcoming them to the Valley of Pharaoh Sedquaduck. The path continued through a orchard of apple, cherry, pear and plum trees which obscured their view of the rest of the gardens_.

"We can still talk," said Huey.

"Aye," answered Scrooge. "This spell of silence must be only on the animals and things that come from this valley."

_This was true enough, as several birds lived amongst the trees, and although they flew to and fro, none made so much as a chirp_.

"Hey, Mr. McD, aren't you worried that this trail's booby trapped," pointed out Launchpad.

"No," Scrooge answered. "The map says there's no danger from any of the trails."

"Is the water or the food poisoned," asked Gladstone, admiring the apples in a nearby tree.

"No," said Scrooge. "They're also perfectly good to eat. There's little danger here."

_At this point, the party abruptly left the orchard, finding themselves at the edge of a rich, green lawn; however, the lot of them were suddenly shuddering in horror. Laid out in the grass before them was what had been nearly 100 Arab soldiers. However, all that remained was skeletons in Eastern armour, and ragged tents and polls attached to skeleton camels. The lot of them had died there, and stayed there, for hundreds upon hundreds of years._

"Unc-Uncle Scrooge," said the nephews in unison. "Uncle Gladstone's right, let's let's let's go back."

"Skeletons - lots of skeletons - are bad luck!" said Gladstone.

"What do you, do you, think happened to these guys?" asked Launchpad nervously.

"This is the lost Arab expedition of the Middle Ages," said Scrooge McDuck, gathering his nerve. "The map says the expedition was disastrous, and now we know how disastrous. Whatever got them, won't get us."

The rest of the party wasn't at all convinced.

"Come on lads," said Scrooge to his nephews. "Don't lose heart. What happened to them won't happen to us."

"Do you, do you give us your word" asked Louie.

_Scrooge McDuck looked at the chart a moment, considering. _

"Yes," said Scrooge, putting the map away. "I give me word. Now let's find a more hospitable place to camp for the night."

The party rode nervously past the field of skeletons, into the more inviting lands beyond.


	8. The Campground

The Campground

The party was appropriately hushed after passing past the remains of the expedition. Added to the natural, or was it unnatural? silence of the valley, the quiet became very eerie.

"You know," observed Gladstone. "If it wasn't so quiet, and if it wasn't for those skeletons back there, this would actually be a nice place. I mean . . . oomph."

Gladstone had tripped again, and had actually rolled down the flagstone path to the bottom of the gentle hill they were climbing.

"And if I had my luck," he ended.

Launchpad went back to help Gladstone to his feet.

"He has a point," said Louie. "I mean it is sort of like a giant park. And it looks as if an _army _of gardeners and gamekeepers look after the place."

"I wouldn't say paradise," Launchpad observed. "Cemeteries are also kept like parks, and I wouldn't want to picnic in them."

"Nor would I," Scrooge agreed. "But it weren't always so. When I was a mere lad, it weren't too uncommon for families, especially the elder folk, to picnic in the kirk yard near their dearly departed.

"Weird," said Huey.

"Creepy" echoed Gladstone.

"Sick," said Louie.

"I wouldn't exactly say that," observed Scrooge, sternly looking toward Louie. "Of course, there are good reasons why one shouldn't. I know for many it may be religious reasons. Barring that, of course, when I was a lad, country people had different attitudes toward such things. Folks have just changed through the years."

Oddly enough, this morbid conversation helped distract them from the gloom of the field of skeletons. They had progressed on the flagstone path, and were now crossing the silent river. It literally gleamed in the rays of the setting sun. On the other side, the party came to another of the small obelisks which seemed like way markers on the path toward the centre of the valley.

"Welcome Visitors to the Valley of Pharaoh Sedquaduck," read Huey, somewhat surprised. "Freely Rest, Refresh, Repast, and Replenish Yourselves on the Campground by the Sedquaduck River."

The campground had a stone fountain, surrounded by several stone benches and tables. Beyond that were acres of lawn surrounded by various trees, all bearing ripe fruit.

"It's too good to be true," said Louie.

"It's my luck coming back," Gladstone claimed.

"Do you think it's a trap, Mr. McD" Launchpad asked.

"No Launchpad," said Scrooge. "The map says everything in the Valley of Pharaoh Sedquaduck is as it claims to be. All I have seen so far suggests that this is the case. However, tonight we'll each set up a watch."

"Besides," said Dewey, looking at the grounds. "It's probably not booby trapped, there's plenty of animals about."

Some silent Flamingos were wading in the river. Apparently cats - domestic cats - were also well represented in the valley, as a few of them could be seen lounging about.

The party quickly made camp by what appeared to a flagstone fire pit, and settled in for the night. There was a new moon, so the night was extremely dark save for the distant twinkle of the stars in the desert sky.

"Would you listen to that?" Gladstone observed, after Launchpad had started a good sized fire.

"Aye," said Scrooge. "The fire doesn't even crackle in this valley."

The fire still proved serviceable for roasting their evening meal. They all managed to roast their food easily, from the dried beef to the roasted fruit to the marshmallows. Especially Gladstone, who's recent bad luck seemed to have dissipated.

Upon arriving at the campground a freak, and silent, gust of wind blew some peaches into Gladstone's hand. Walking under a tree, several apples fell into his hand. Gladstone decided it wasn't too much effort to pick some cherries, however merely brushing against a tree allowed dozens of them to fall into his upturned hat.

Scrooge divided the adults into three watches: Gladstone first, as he liked to stay up late; Scrooge last, as he usually woke up early, as "the early bird catches the worm": Launchpad received the difficult midnight and early morning hours, because it was the only one that was left.

Gladstone noticed nothing during his watch, complaining about the boredom the next morning:

"I mean," he explained, "it's not such a bad place, but how can you have any fun in a valley without sound? Just try sitting up and listening to nothing for three hours."

Launchpad hadn't noticed anything either, but he hadn't thought it was boring.

"It's spooky, Mr. McD," he explained. "I've camped out tonnes of times, but never without noise."

Scrooge hadn't noticed anything. He wasn't bored, or terrified. He had merely studied the map until daybreak.


	9. The Curse of Pharoah Sedquaduck

The Curse of Pharaoh Sedquaduck

_The day had dawned brightly, albeit silently. Scrooge had consented to a hurried breakfast, although reluctantly._

"Time, tide and treasure wait for no man," Scrooge said.

"Come on Unc," Gladstone objected, still eating. "It's waited for thousands of years. It can wait a while longer."

"Aren't you interested in seeing the stuff after coming all this way?" Dewey asked.

"Of course I am," said Gladstone. "But not so early in the morning."

The ducks cleaned up camp, and got ready to go.

_"Only a couple more miles," said Scrooge, pointing to the apex of the dark grey pyramid, hanging above the trees._

_Everybody mounted their camels, except Gladstone. His mount immediately tossed him off._

"Leave the beast here," said Scrooge. "We can come back for it."

_The path to the pyramid was wide and even, but Gladstone's bad luck of the day before seemed to have come back with a vengeance. Gladstone seemed to trip and fall every few feet. Launchpad tried offering Gladstone his camel. The camel bellowed and refused to let Gladstone mount. The camel even spat at Gladstone's face._

"Yuck," said Gladstone, wringing out his hat. "Who knew camels had so much spit."

"Don't worry, Gladstone," said Scrooge. "It'll soon be over."

Surprisingly, Scrooge McDuck seemed almost as worried over Gladstone's apparent bad luck as Gladstone himself.

The nephews had meanwhile fallen silently behind.

"Something in this valley is taking away Uncle Gladstone's luck," said Dewey to Louie.

"Yeah," said Louie. "Maybe it's the fact that Pharoah Sedquaduck was so Unlucky."

"And he was the 13th Pharaoh of the 13th dynasty," Huey added. "You notice Uncle Scrooge never wants us to bring it up?"

"Or say even that Pharaoh Sedquaduck was unlucky," Dewey observed. "But there's something else. Uncle Gladstone is only unlucky _when we're heading toward _the pyramid. And Uncle Scrooge seems to know why."

"You mean either the pyramid itself is the source of the bad luck," said Huey, "or . . . ."

"Uncle Gladstone's bad luck is actually good luck, trying to keep him away from the place" Dewey answered.

By this time, the party was moving forward very slowly, delayed by Gladstone's many mishaps. As a last act of desperation, Scrooge had told Gladstone to brace himself to Launchpad and his camel - much in the same way mountain climbers tie themselves together to avoid falling. This worked, but only to a limited extent. Gladstone could stumble, but he couldn't fall.

_It was nearly 11:00 by Scrooge's watch when they reached the central clearing where the pyramid stood in the middle of a suspiciously well kept lawn. The path branched off in three directions, one direction to the pyramid before them, another to a small obelisk along a path heading toward the many large white obelisks they had seen from the cliff. The other path headed to the lake, where the River of Pharaoh Sedquaduck seemed to have met its end._

The ducks could now see the pyramid up close; the masonry was excellent, unlike the famous sun bleached pyramids known to modern Egyptologists, this dark grey structure seemed unworn by time, the outside still decorated with many hieroglyphics. Facing them was a massive door into the structure, with large hieroglyphics boldly carved in large, bold characters.

"Tomb and Treasure Vault of His Majesty, Pharoah Sedquaduck the illustrious 13th Pharaoh of the 13th Dynasty, known to Prosperity as Pharoah Sequaduck the Un . . . etcetera," read Scrooge.

On either side of the pyramid doors were massive gold plates, decorated by hieroglyphics, painted in some sort of a red dye that somehow had not faded over the millennia.

"You stay here boys, Launchpad," Scrooge said, tersely, walking up to one of the gold plates.

"But Uncle Scrooge," said the nephews . . . .

'Mr. McD," Launchpad objected.

"Brigadoon!" said Scrooge, suddenly short tempered. "Will you wait a blasted minute?"

That quieted the nephews, as Scrooge briefly pondered over the message on the brass plates.

Abruptly, Scrooge said, in a suspiciously artificial voice:

"Gladstone, me lad, I think that _you _should have the _honour _of opening the vault door - you haven't had the chance to experience treasure hunting."

For some reason, Gladstone had shivered violently at the suggestion.

"Looks sort of heavy," Gladstone observed after a moment.

"You're not afraid?" Scrooge asked.

"_Me_," Gladstone cried.

Gladstone deftly unroped himself from Launchpad, and headed toward the massive stone door . . . .

He never reached it. At that instant, the ground began to shake so violently, that Gladstone was thrown to the ground 10 feet away.

"Earthquake," yelled Huey.

The camels bellowed, while Scrooge joined the nephews in seeking the relative safety of the open meadow.

The ground continued to shake, sending birds into the air and swaying the giant obelisks to and fro like upside down pendulums, either that or ancient stone metronomes. At last a massive piece of stonework fell from the pyramid, blocking the entrance.

The earthquake stopped.

"Aye," Scrooge sighed. "I've seen enough. We're not even going to try to get into the pyramid."

"Why?" asked Launchpad.

"The maps says the pyramid and the treasure are cursed, as do those gold plates put up to warn treasure seekers away" Scrooge said.

"According to the _Junior Woodchuck Guidebook_," translated Dewey "They say whoever disturbs the final resting place of Pharoah Sedquaduck, the illustrious yet unlucky 13th Pharaoh of the 13th Dynasty . . ."

"Unlucky!" interrupted Gladstone. "13th of 13th!"

". . . before 13000 years have passed, or the world ends, whichever comes sooner," Dewey continued, "will not be permitted to leave this valley alive, and will be executed by the His Majesty's Loyal Guard"

"So that's what happened to those guys back there!" Launchpad observed.

"Aye," said Scrooge. "And it may have happened to us if it wasn't for Gladstone's luck."

"_Luck_!" said Gladstone excitedly. "Were you trying to jinx me, Uncle Scrooge? Taking me to the _cursed _tomb of the _13__th_pharaoh of the _13__th _dynasty!

"Not at all Gladstone," Scrooge explained. "The map says that the pharaoh was put to rest here with most of the greatest treasures of the 13th dynasty kept inside his pyramid. The curse of death falls only upon those who violate the pharaoh's final resting place. Those skeletons we passed belonged to the members of the exhibition who entered the pyramid despite the warning. The few who obeyed the warning fled the valley, telling all those who would listen what they saw . . . . Of course, a treasure hunter and an archeologist cannot give up the ship based on an ancient superstition retold in a 200 year old map. Still, in me travels, lads, I have seen many things which magic can only explain. So, to make sure we were all safe . . . .

"You brought Gladstone along, because his luck would prevent him from the curse" said Dewey.

"Aye," said Scrooge. "Gladstone, I used you as a sort of barometer. It couldn't hurt you to come along on a treasure hunt, but I apologize I didn't come clean with you but I knew you are a believer in _all _fool superstition.

"Well, okay Unc," said Gladstone. "But you sure risked cursing _my luck_ on this trip!"

"Not at all," Scrooge observed. "Your luck tried to keep you away from the pyramid, and at the end moved heaven and earth to make sure you didn't enter."

"If the pyramid is cursed," Dewey asked, "why the big setup welcoming us to this valley?

"And why the park, the campground, the trees," added Huey.

"And why is it so quiet?" asked Louie.

"Simple," responded Scrooge. "The map says this valley is a actually an ancient museum devoted to the 13th dynasty that Pharaoh Sedquaduck admired so much and was unable to protect. Those giant white obelisks mark exhibits, and the pathway before us will lead us through the grounds."

"A memorial," Dewey observed.

"That's why it's quiet," Huey noted. "Some sort of ancient Egyptian magic spell."

"The spell must also keep everything the trees and animals healthy," said Louie.

"Wait!" Launchpad said. "What about that 1000 man guard? They must be somewhere looking after the place!"

"Yes and no," said Scrooge, slowly. "The map says the guard watches over the valley, and kills those who enter the pyramid until after the appointed year . . . but the story goes the army is made up entirely of ghosts."

"Ghosts!" said the others.

"Aye," repeated Scrooge. "Ghosts."

"I wouldn't worry," offered Gladstone, having recovered from his shock "_My luck _will protect us."

"I'm sure it will," said Scrooge sourly. He added in a brighter tone: "Anyway, lads, as archeologists we ought to see this museum. I'm sure your Woodchuck leader will agree . . . ."

"Sure, Mr McD" said Launchpad. "Let's just make sure we get to camp before dark."

**Two more, short, chapters to go.**


	10. The Haunted Valley

**The Haunted Valley**

Upon moving away from the deadly pyramid, Gladstone's luck quickly returned. No sooner had Dewey translated the sign on the nearby small obelisk as saying ("Museum of the 13th Dynasty and of his Majesty, Pharoah Sedquaduck, along this path") than Gladstone's camel had somehow shown up (escaping it bounds at the campground) allowing him to ride comfortably along the mile or two path that ambled through the exhibits.

"This is dull, Mr. McD," complained Launchpad, while Scrooge was examining an inscription on the stone wall surrounding one of the giant white obelisks.

"For a museum," Gladstone observed, "Sedquaduck left precious little artifacts to see."

"Just some pottery," complained Louie, "And some tapestries detailing the history of the 13th dynasty, all behind some heavy glass."

"It does fill in the history of the 13th dynasty pretty well," admitted Dewey, dutifully translating the hieroglyphics using the _Junior Woodchuck Guidebook_.

"More than that, Dewey," Scrooge observed. "These artifacts are worth a fortune; the 13th dynasty is a mostly forgotten, chaotic period in the history of the Middle Kingdom. Few monuments or remnants of the dynasty have been found to date." Scrooge sighed. "Ach, it pains me that we cannot take any of this with us."

Pharoah Sedquaduck's museum mainly heaped praise upon his 13th dynasty predecessors. No more so than when it came to the Pharaoh's own father and grandfather, described as not only great commanders and administrators, but uncommonly generous and just for the civilization and the time period.

The final few obelisks dealt with Pharoah Sedquaduck. He had tried to improve on his immediate family's work, trying to improve the lot of his subjects. He had even attempted to eliminate many of the cruelties rampant in the ancient Egyptian world.

However, the Pharaoh wasn't particularly competent. He was known as the "Unlucky" not because of any actual personal bad luck, but because he was unable to fight off the barbarous rulers of the time. Several wars with neighbouring rulers and would-be Pharaohs shrank his kingdom, until his position became untenable. Sequaduck was ultimately forced to flee to a lonely oasis in the desert. There, broken in spirit and downcast, with his last followers and court magicians, he had the valley (surrounded by mountainous dunes) made into a hidden memorial that would last thousands of years.

Upon reading this, Scrooge remarked "That's why it isn't enough to be square, but you also have to smarter than the smarties and tougher than the toughies."

"And you need luck," put in Gladstone.

"The hieroglyphics say it wasn't bad luck," objected Louie.

"Really?" said Gladstone. "I'd say being surrounded by enemies willing to tear your kingdom apart is pretty unlucky."

Scrooge sighed. "Let's hurry up, we're almost finished."

They had returned to the small stone building near the lake and the pyramid. Dewey was surprised to find out that here the pictograms spelled out "Gift Shop,"

"What's the surprise?" Launchpad asked. "Every tourist attraction has them."

"Indeed?" questioned a gloomy voice from behind.

The voice belonged to a tall duck, in dark cape and black Egyptian raiments seated upon a dark horse.

The ducks started.

"It is a good thing you did not enter the pyramid," the stranger observed. "Thousands of years, and people have not learned yet to respect the dead."

"Who are you?" questioned Scrooge, pointing his cane at the stranger.

"Where did you come from?" asked Huey.

A _ghost_ of a smile passed over the man's solemn face.

"You _must_ know that," he said. With a slow, dignified motion, he pointed to a leather volume bearing his likeness, having suddenly appeared on a stone shelf on the outside of the "Gift Shop." Beside it was a goblet, decorated in the 13th dynasty style.

"Mr. McDuck, those are my gifts for visitors who do not plunder and steal. Feel free to take it from _my_ valley as a token for those who travel this far and see family's past greatness . . . _even if they are bored _(the man glared at Launchpad). At any rate, I would be pleased to learn that the true history of the 13th dynasty has reached the modern world at last."

The ducks looked at the gifts.

"Brigadoon!" Scrooge said. "These items are worth a fortune. When I donate them to the museum, what a tax writeoff they'll be. What an archeological find!"

"All because we looked at your mus . . . hey, he's gone!" Gladstone observed.

"Pharoah Sedquaduck's Guide to the 13th Dynasty" Dewey read on the title.

"Then that means . . ." Huey said.

"Don't say it," Louie interrupted.

_As it was relatively late in the afternoon, the ducks decided to spend the night in the campground rather than risk wandering around the valley. Now that they suspected the pharaoh's ghost to haunt the valley, the night was drearier than ever. It was eagerly that the ducks woke up the next morning, and began the trek back to modern civilization._

_Leaving the valley was not as easy as descending into it. The steep path upwards took hours to navigate, even for Gladstone. That night they made camp on the dunes near the lost valley._

At midnight, when Gladstone's watch ended and Launchpad was to relieve him, Scrooge surprised the both of them by leaving his tent, map in hand.

"Gladstone, Launchpad me lads, I have an idea we may observe a sight never seen by living eyes."

"_Living _eyes?" Gladstone replied dubiously.

"You're not afraid?" asked Scrooge.

"_No_," said Gladstone.

"N-not me," Launchpad answered.

"Then come with me to the cliff's end" Scrooge said.

Unknown to Scrooge, Huey, Dewey and Louie had also woken up. They followed the adults noiselessly to the edge of the cliff.

The dark valley was filled with floating white lights. Launchpad and Gladstone looked in turn through Scrooge's binoculars. Each light was a heavily armed phantom soldier or servant, cutting, pruning, watering, polishing and cleaning the pharaoh's ancient monument. Near the pyramid, upon a throne and surrounded by attendants was the mysterious duck himself, giving orders but looking as gloomy as ever.

"_Ghosties and ghoulies and things that go bump in the night_," Gladstone quoted. "Right, Uncle Scrooge?"

"Aye," said Scrooge quietly. "They're busy. They've lost two nights work while we were down there.

"So all the time we we're down there," said Launchpad, eyes bulging, "we were surrounded by those creepy ghosts?"

"They're the ones who feed the animals and keep the gardens," Scrooge said simply.

"S-should we get Huey, Dewey and Louie?" asked Launchpad.

"Probably not," Scrooge reflected. "The boys are brave - _probably less afraid of ghosts than you Launchpad, _- but I'd rather they not see such a sight."

"I-I'm no coward" Launchpad objected. "But the sooner we get away from this place the better."

"I'm with Launchpad," Gladstone said. "Ghosts can't be good luck."

_Launchpad, Scrooge and Gladstone returned to camp. Huey, Dewey and Louie had to be quick to sneak in their tent before they were found out. _

_Three more days, and they had arrived at each of the oasis in turn. The fourth day and they had reached Sham-el-Camel and booked a flight (actually, a series of flights) that would take them back to Duckburg_.

**One Chapter to go.**


	11. Quack Maison Again

**Quack Maison Again**

Gladstone had invited Scrooge McDuck, Huey, Dewey, Louie, and even Launchpad to dinner. Of course they had eaten at Quack Maison, given Gladstone had a year's free meals for himself and up to five friends.

They had only returned from Egypt that day, and there is nothing that can make a duck hungrier than riding a camel across the desert or spending a few days in a haunted valley. Even Mrs. Beakly's delicious lunch had hardly dented their appetites.

Gladstone and company ordered enough to worry the maitre d'hotel about the restaurant's inevitable bankruptcy if such meals were to continue everyday for a year's time..

When the main course was finished, talk returned to the recent, semi-successful expedition.

"You think it was Flintheart Glomgold who tried to shoot us down?" Gladstone asked.

"Aye," said Scrooge. "Who else?"

"_Lucky_ for him he lost his supplies and never found that valley," Gladstone observed. "Glomgold's greedy enough to have gone into that pyramid. With all those . . . with the curse he would've been a dead duck."

Huey, Dewey and Louie exchanged quick glances. Gladstone was going to say "ghosts" but had stopped himself.

"So that's why you kept the location of the valley a secret, right Mr. McD?" asked Lauchpad. "So no one falls into that trap?"

"Aye," said Scrooge. "It's best if we do no tell the world about such a place. It could mean death to many."

"And that's why you told the reporters the only things _you could recover _was the book from the goblet," Dewey pointed out.

"Right," Scrooge said. "It's better for them not to know there's anything valuable there than to risk others falling victim to the curse."

"At any rate," Louie pointed out. "By publishing the book the pharaoh gave you, and displaying the goblet, everyone will now know about the 13th dynasty anyways. Before there weren't any records or artifacts to display from Pharaoh Sedquaduck's reign"

"Aye, that's another reason to keep the valley secret," Scrooge said craftily.

"What do you mean?" asked Huey.

"I'm the only one who has an original volume and a valuable goblet from the period," Scrooge pointed out. "It makes them worth all the more of course."

"Of course," said the rest, resignedly.

_The waiter placed before them Quack Maison's world famous dessert, the sticky chocolate and apple messes. _

"So _au Flamee _means your going to light these things on fire?" Launchpad asked.

"_Oui_," said the French waiter. "Our _Le Chaud Cocoa au Flamee avec les Pommes avec creme de glace dans le grande Quack Maison _would not live up to its name, in fact, it would be, how you say, terrible."

"A name like that needs a lot of living up to," Louie pointed out.

"So don't put out the fire Launchpad," Scrooge warned.

"No worries, Mr. McD," Launchpad replied. "I, uh, learned my lesson from last time."

Scrooge's reply was cut off by the waiter.

"_Voila_"

The contrivances were set on fire. And amazingly enough, Quack Maison's strange desserts once again lived up to their name.

The End

Thanks for reading.

Reviews greatly appreciated.

Sorry for the ridiculously long time it took to finish this story (7 months?)

Also, I have to reluctantly concede that Sharon McQuack is right about my taking to much time to cut to the chase. The story does seem to weave in places.


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